(Dedicated
to Susan, Jude, Mary, Monica, and fond memories of the dead mouse
sketch on no sleep at Toronto Trek '94...)

ooo

"Why do I let you talk me into these things?" Natalie eyed the formidable spread of junk food on her coffee table
while Grace rewound the "surprise" video she had brought
over.

"Because,
somewhere deep down, you know that coming home and being a couch
potato once in a while is a good
thing," Grace replied without missing a beat. "Anyway,
it's the best place to be annoyed with men."

"Grace..."

"I
know, I know, none of my business. But you'd think they'd have to
have a little
more sense than that before they're allowed to be detectives..."

"Grace!"

"Okay. Fine." Grace handed her hostess a pint container of fudge
ripple ice cream complete with spoon with one hand while hitting
"play" on the remote control with the other. "Eat. Watch. Be merry. I
won't bring it up again."

The
TV began emitting bouncy piano jazz, and an equally bouncy woman with
a pixie haircut launched into an eccentric dance with animated
squiggles of color. "Hey! That's Emma Thompson, isn't it?" At least, that was what Grace presumed Nat said through the ice
cream, spoon waving in the direction of the screen. The following
collection of muffled mrrpphs seemed to translate to "What
is she doing?"

"Just
watch," came the reply. "I can't believe you missed this. It's required viewing for any modern woman. Especially when they
need to get together and be annoyed with men."

"Grace!"

"I
know, I promised. Sorry. Just watch."

By
the time the first sketch, in which Emma Thompson and Imelda Staunton
demonstrated self-defence in the kitchen and made an omelette all in
one, was close to finished there was no doubt as to the quality of
the choice in evening's viewing. Nick would have even approved--as
frantic as he'd been about her in the week since the world hadn't
ended, he'd certainly be in favor of the self-defence--that is, if he
weren't so caught up in being her defence system. On the screen,
Emma was solidly outfitted in jury-rigged pot-and-pan armor and
busily cooking away when the attack came. Without warning. Very
noisily. From directly overhead.

And
while Imelda proudly explained that one should never let one's guard
down and must always be prepared for the airborne attack, Natalie
narrowly avoided aspirating fudge ripple, much to Grace's amusement. Good
thing she didn't ask why
the airborne thing in particular was so funny, Nat told herself once the danger of choking was past and the ice
cream was safely relegated to the table. That
could have been tricky. Immediately annoyed with herself for relating the image back to a
certain vampire who was currently in the doghouse, she turned her
attention back to the show.

The
snack of choice had become sour cream and onion Pringles by the time
a slightly bittersweet sketch of Thompson and Kenneth Branagh
divvying up their record collection gave way to the pair of them
tap-dancing on a giant phonograph, and Nat and Grace both jumped when
a knock sounded on the door of the apartment.

"Tell
him to go away."

"Grace!" Still clutching the Pringles can, Natalie disentangled herself from
the pretzelesque position she had managed to get herself into in the
corner of the couch and went to answer the door.

"Bonsoir,
Natalie." The slight lift of a single eyebrow spoke volumes as
Janette took in the three-in-the-morning-during-finals-week look of
the woman before her, complete with undisciplined mane, stocking
feet, and voluminous T-shirt proclaiming the gratitude of the
Canadian Red Cross for regular donations.

"Hi." Natalie refrained from adding what
are you doing here?,
though it was probably pretty obvious she was thinking it. She also
noted to herself with some satisfaction that it was Janette's
nightclub chic that looked distinctly out of place this time. Nat
hoped the blush she felt wasn't visible; the last time they'd seen
each other she'd
been the one dressed to kill. Or
be killed,
a vicious portion of her mind whispered accusingly.

"Nicky
came by to pour out his sorrows," Janette explained brightly,
tipping Nat off that she was in particularly good...spirits this
evening.

"As
long as he wasn't drowning them," Nat replied reflexively.

"Goodness,
no. He was on duty." The vampiress actually giggled. "Isn't it just touching
how concerned he is with your safety? You're absolutely right, you
know. He can
be an overprotective, condescending schmuck. He can't really escape
it."

"I
did say that, didn't I?"

"And
I was very proud of you," Grace piped up behind her, moving to
join them and meet this stranger who displayed such a promising
attitude toward the object of their displeasure.

"Though
personally
I would have been more creative," Janette noted, "but for
the spur of the moment, not bad at all."

"Janette,"
the newcomer returned somewhat warily. As Grace drew her into the
room, she caught sight of the television, which had shifted into a
sketch bearing a remarkable resemblance to a BBC costume drama. "What on earth
are you watching, and why is the young girl wearing things forty
years off from the others?"

Mouse
sketch? Nat was feeling vaguely ill. She sat down again, this time
on the floor in front of the couch. She began to giggle as she
picked up the gist of the dialogue--this time Emma was a Victorian
woman without even knowledge of basic anatomical facts asking her
mother questions about marriage...and men...and their
rather...strange habits. As the mother was looking particularly
uncomfortable with the conversation, Natalie heard a muffled squeak
to her left. She turned and was surprised to find that Janette had
taken a seat on the couch and was watching the comedy show. And
having a hard time suppressing her laughter. Nat stared for a moment
then grinned. Janette enjoying something so very mortal had simply
never occurred to her. For that matter, she realized, Janette truly
enjoying much of anything
was something that had never occurred to her.

Only
when the sketch gave way to one about horror movies did Janette
breathe again, even for effect. "That is so much the way it
was," she said, her voice still touched by the laughter she had
actually allowed to erupt briefly. "I used to love to say
outrageous things to old women such as her, just to see the shock on
their faces." Janette smiled, eyes glinting wickedly at the
memory. "My grandmother's friends, you know," she added as
she noticed Grace's raised eyebrows.

Natalie
took refuge in having a large drink of her red Hawaiian Punch,
avoiding both Grace's curiosity and the now innate desire to bolster
Janette's cover, help which she instinctively knew would not
be appreciated.

Soon
the sketch was over and the credits rolled. "Don't worry,"
Grace said, poking her head back in from the kitchen, into which she
had disappeared just a bit earlier, "there are five more
episodes. Plenty of fun left." She vanished for a moment again
and returned with both hands protected from the pan she was carrying
by brightly colored oven mitts. "You. ...Um..."

"Janette,"
Natalie supplied before hiding in her glass again; being referred to
as "you" was something Janette was clearly not accustomed
to.

Natalie
had abruptly returned her glass to the table--spilling a bit of the
red liquid on her t-shirt in the process--and was attempting to
swallow and not laugh, in that order. She was not
having good luck with the timing of eating and laughing tonight.

"Always
the skinny ones, too," Grace shook her head and set the pan in
Natalie's reach. "As long was we eat the same thing, it has no
calories, you know." She grinned broadly. "Hell, if we
split it three ways, I'll bet it has negative
calories." She looked at Janette expectantly, but the vampiress
shook her head slightly, placing a shaky hand on her stomach. "Well,
have it your way. The stuff's still here if you change your mind. And the chocolate chocolate chip brownies will be done in twenty
minutes."

"I'll
remember that," Janette said, maintaining what Natalie thought
was an impressive degree of steadiness under the circumstances.

Grace
returned to the kitchen and reemerged moments later with a bag of
microwave popcorn and bowls of ranch dressing and marinara sauce for
the mozzarella. By this time the next episode had begun and the
three women grew relatively silent.

"Ow
ow ow! Hot. Hot!" Natalie suddenly gasped, her words slurred
by the half-chewed pizza roll. "Hot hot hot." She fanned
a hand in front of her face, swallowed quickly, and took another huge
gulp of punch. "Hot!" she exclaimed one more time,
pointing an accusing finger at the pan, then falling silent as she
noted that it appeared to be Janette's turn to look amused.

"They
did
just come out of the oven, Nat," Grace admonished lightly. "I'm
sorry, though. I should have warned you."

"That's
okay," Nat said, refilling her glass from the jug beneath the
table. "But I think I'll switch to something safer." She
reached for the bag of Hershey's Kisses with Almonds, peeled off the
candy's foil wrapper, and dropped the wrapper on the table. She
contemplated the chocolate for a moment, then set it in her mouth. "Mmmm, these are good." She smiled appreciatively then
glanced back at the TV. "...What
are they doing?"

Thompson
was now dressed in disproportionately lumpy clothes and Staunton was
proudly explaining the failsafe weight loss program of
auto-cannibalism. Natalie began giggling and popped another
chocolate into her mouth.

Janette
stared at the television, then looked at the two laughing women, then
back again. "That
is disgusting," she declared as she turned to Natalie and Grace
with a slightly blank but horrified expression. "How can you
laugh at that?"

Natalie
shrugged. "Level of absurdity?" she suggested lightly,
munching another kiss and adding its wrapper to her growing pile.

Janette
returned her gaze to the TV and Grace swatted Natalie's shoulder
lightly. Nat looked up questioningly and her eyes followed Grace's
pointing finger to where Sydney stood on the back of the opposite end
of the couch from Janette. Natalie watched in bemusement as Sydney
crept slowly onto the seat of the couch and toward Janette. The
vampiress was too caught up in the morbidity of the skit to notice
she was being stalked until Sydney's entire front half suddenly
plopped into her black dry-clean-only clad lap.

Natalie
laughed out loud as Janette started then stared dumbly at the furry
lump sprawled across her legs. "The sneak attack!" Nat
grinned. "Works every time."

"So
that's where you got it," Grace said, looking knowingly at
Sydney and his mommy.

"How
do I ...get rid of it?" Janette asked, poking the cat's side
gently with one gloved finger.

"Sydney? Oh, he's certifiable lap fungus. You're pretty much stuck with him
for a while; he seems to like you. He'll probably purr his little
heart out for hours."

"Yeah,
especially since you're being used to get back at us," Grace
added, "he wants to make us jealous by paying attention to you
because we
aren't feeding him."

"Ah,"
Janette said, clearly not a bit mollified.

A
few minutes later, there was another knock at the door. "You
just stay right there and watch; I'll get it," Grace said,
quickly jumping to her feet and going to the door. Natalie heard a
none-too-cordial, "Good evening, detective" and then Grace
called, "Should I let him in?"

"Is
he waving a white flag?" Nat asked, only partially joking and
half hoping Nick would take the hint.

"Wimp,"
Grace mouthed from over Nick's shoulder, shaking her head in disgust.

Nick
stopped short as he caught sight of Janette, who looked up with an
impish grin and waved her now ungloved fingers at him. Natalie made
a point of not directly acknowledging his presence but from the
corner of her eye was pleased to see him looking perplexed at the
spectacle of her, Grace, and Janette surrounding a coffee table laden
with junk food, and seeming to be not only getting along just fine,
but even enjoying themselves. She frowned as he looked nervously
from Janette to her and back again. Natalie's frown turned guilty as
he spied her stack of Hershey's wrappers and she quickly crumpled
them and pushed them aside, opening the sour cream and onion dip and
ripple chips. She was pleased to note Nick's slight shudder as she
scooped a large glop of dip onto her first chip and began to munch.

Nick
moved to lean against the back of the couch behind Janette. "I
see you passed the Sydney Test," he commented, gesturing at the
cat Janette was absently petting on her lap.

"So
it would appear," Janette replied evenly.

"What
are you doing here, Janette?" Nick whispered.

"Watching
a film."

She
pointed at the screen which was now occupied by two nuns, one played
by Thompson and the other, it seemed, by a man. The timing was such
that exactly as Janette pointed, the male nun said solemnly to the
other, "Biting policemen is wrong,
Jeanette."

Natalie
found herself fighting to keep from spitting or breathing food for
the third time that night, and as soon as she had swallowed, fell
sideways, convulsing with laughter.

"I
am not a nun, Nicholas," Janette replied softly, glancing
briefly over her shoulder at him.

A
minute later the bitten policeman in question entered the scene, only
to have a wooden chair shattered against him by the male nun.

"Just
what he deserved!" Grace exulted, casting a satisfied look at
Nick.

"Uh
huh," Natalie agreed through laughter, unobtrusively taking in
Nick's confused expression and finding it quite fitting. He had been
avoiding talking to her about much of anything meaningful--except
that one brief night just before Valentine's Day--for ages now. He'd
left her out of his plans, out of his life...she hadn't realized how
important the all night talk sessions, movie marathons, the little
smiles, exchanges of in-jokes, and so many other little things they
shared were to her until they'd become so scarce. It served him
right if tonight he
felt left out for once. She deliberately kept her attention full on
the TV, where another skit had began. Imelda's character was an
office worker so paranoid about the very idea of sexual harassment
that she was reading wildly inaccurate connotations into every
statement that was made.

Nick
looked at the three women in utter confusion, then back at the
screen. "What
are you watching??"

As
Imelda's behavior became more and more extreme, Grace gasped, "I've
worked
with people like that, too. In fact, Natalie, there was a lady just
before you started to work with us who was almost that paranoid."

At
that moment Imelda ripped open the front of her blouse, crowing about
her "Cross your heart, fully wired, seven-day, tom-proof bust
protector" and all three women laughed, ignoring Nick's question
entirely. Their attention remained focused on the television and,
after a moment, Nick stood up from leaning over the back of the
couch.

"Well,
I guess I'd better get going." The only response were the
women's giggles at the current skit. "Schanke will be
wondering what happened to me," he added. Grace flipped a hand
dismissively at Nick, obviously gesturing him to be quiet. Somewhat
nonplussed, he headed slowly for the door. "I'll see you two
tomorrow." He looked back in Nat and Grace's direction, but
they didn't react. Frowning and confused, he turned and left.

"He
is
just an overprotective, condescending schmuck," Natalie burst
out as soon as the door closed behind Nick. She was well aware that,
in all likelihood, he could still hear every word and not only did
not mind, but rather hoped he did. "How dare
he check up on me again?!" She grabbed a handful of the
popcorn and threw it at the door as hard as she could.

"It's
just his way, cherie,"
Janette said, her voice taking on a soft and somewhat sentimental
tone as she glanced toward the door. "He has always been
overzealous in the protection of what he loves. And right now that
is you."

"I
knew it," Grace said, pouncing on the potential information
Janette had. "I knew
you must have known him a long time. And you say he's always
had this little sense?"

Natalie
didn't even bother to chastise Grace for the comment this time; she
was too furious with Nick and close to either agreeing or elaborating
on the woman's assessment.

"Where
it comes to women? Yes." Janette paused thoughtfully. "Actually, where it comes to relationships and people just in
general. You know, once he ran away and asked me to come with him. He can never
understand that since he wants it that does not necessarily mean that
everyone else does too."

"You
can say that again! Just like when he tried to drag you out of bed
and outside a couple of months ago, just because he thought it was a
nice day," Natalie was careful to couch her words so that Grace
would hear nothing that would hint of the true nature of the
exchange. "Of course, the worst of it is when he assumes he
knows best and tries to arrange things that way without even checking
to see what you want."

"Exactly. He did that to me over and over again. He was always acting in what
he thought were my best interests, or to protect me, and if I wanted
something different, he would usually try and convince me that his
way was better. So
presumptuous!" Janette's lip curled slightly on the last word.

"No
kidding. Half the time he won't tell me what's wrong because he
doesn't want to scare or worry me. And if he would just talk
to me, I could help. Like when...oh, never mind. You know."

"Yeah,
like when he tried to be such a perfect gentleman about Roger and
'not doubt your judgement' and 'not get in the way of you and your
happiness.'" The mocking tone to Grace's voice when she quoted
Nick would have been enough to make Natalie laugh out loud had she
not been so horrified.

"You
heard
that?" Nat had always been somewhat comforted by knowing that
only she and Nick knew of their conversation. She had been so
frustrated with him at the time that she hadn't realized that he was
trying very hard to do what he thought was the best thing--and that
it had nearly broken his heart to say what he did. Later, when she
looked back, she had felt dreadful for having blown up at him just
for not saying what she wanted to hear.

"Of
course. And I thought it was perfect that you threw him out after he
made that ridiculous speech. The man needs to learn to say what he
feels--and to be honest--rather than just trying to "do the
right thing". It's a real no-brainer to see that he's already
all tied up in your happiness!"

"Ah,
but that is what Nicky does best," Janette's amused smile had
grown somewhat mocking as well. "He always
does the 'right thing'...or at least, what he perceives at that
moment to be
the right thing. He never thinks that those might be two very
different things."

"Like
today
when he put out an APB on my car. They pulled me out of a damned
drive-thru line!

"If
I'd
answered the phone, I would have told
him you were running errands," Grace said. "I don't know
why they said they didn't know where you were."

"I
just about killed him. He shouldn't have to know where I am every
second of the day and night to not worry. We all had a bad scare
with the whole "the sky is falling" routine. He needs to
get
over it
though!! Of course, I know I'll let him off the hook sooner or
later. Probably sooner."

"Well,
yes, it is Nick," Janette concurred.

"You
ought to at least make him sweat a little first," Grace
insisted. "Tonight was a good start. Now, tomorrow you should
keep up the silent treatment, maybe think of something else good to
call him. Oh, and most important: he has to do something as penance
for this one."

Natalie
looked dubiously at Grace.

Janette
shook her head. She knew better than to think Nat's annoyance with
Nick would last much after tonight. "Nicky will come to see
Natalie soon, probably tomorrow night, and act very apologetic. In
fact, he probably came by here to apologize but Natalie was not
alone. He'll look like his world will end if she doesn't forgive
him," Janette was beginning to sound rather bored, as though she
were reciting something tediously familiar, "and Natalie will
have no choice but to do so. I wouldn't have either."

"Why
do we always fall for this? He asks for something ludicrous and,
because he's Nick, we do it, even against our better judgement."

"I
stopped asking that question long ago. It is simply because he is
Nicholas. Even when he is being unreasonable, he is still
irresistible." Janette shook her head, obviously not certain of
the reason either, but not concerned enough to search for it as
Natalie seemed to be doing.

"But
it's...he's just so..." Natalie looked around as though
scanning about the room would provide her with an appropriate
adjective. Her gaze happened past the TV where the tape was still
running. A second later her gaze jerked back to the image she had
almost missed. "What did they do
to her hair?!" she demanded, staring in horror at Imelda's
hairdo. It looked like someone had run electricity through the poor
woman's body while she was upside down, then hairsprayed the mop to
within an inch of its life, then topped the horror with an even more
unfortunate large bow--so large that even the size of the hairdo did
not obscure clear view of it. Natalie shuddered, "You'd never
catch me dead
with hair like that!"

"Not
anymore, at least," Grace said, swatting at the mop of hair
that, left to its own devices, quite closely approximated the style
Nat was so vehemently opposed to.

"What's
that supposed to mean?" Nat demanded, exaggerating a frown at
Grace as she twisted her hair around itself, leaving none for the
other woman to play with.

"I've
seen you looking a lot like that--especially when you first started
working here."

"I
did not!" Nat protested. At Grace's dubiously raised eyebrows
she amended, "Well, I never did it that big. Or with the bow."

"I
do seem to recall a certain few occasions when--"

"Okay. Fine. Maybe it was similar," Nat retorted. "Once or
twice. But that was six years ago. I'd never be caught dead with
hair like that now." Natalie risked a look at Janette, only to observe the woman's
attempt at not giggling dissolving slightly. "Janette, lose the
shoes. Stay awhile."

Janette
began to respond, shifting her weight as if considering the
possibility and Sydney, who had been awakened by the loud, if
good-natured, argument, jumped down. He glanced reproachfully at
those who had so rudely interrupted his comfortable nap, then trotted
off toward the quiet bedroom.

"Ah,
well," Janette began, rising with a regal air that always made
Natalie call her own gracefulness further into question, "I
think that, as fascinating as this has been, I really should be
returning to my club. We wouldn't want Miklos to have to close up by
himself.

"Aw,
you can't run off. We've still got cheesecake and more videos!"
Grace protested, moving to block Janette's exit.

"No. Thank you, but I really must be going." Nat was surprised to
not a tone of warmth in the woman's tone. "Another time,
perhaps," she conceded, looking pointedly at Natalie, "To
trade stories about Nicholas."

Nat
smiled conspiratorily in return. "That would be nice."

"And
you two have
to let me listen in on those." Grace sighed. "Well, if
you've gotta go. ...But you had a good time, right?" she
demanded, placing her hands on Janette's shoulders and looking
carefully into her eyes.

"Y-yes,"
Janette said, with only the slightest of hesitation. She glanced at
Natalie. "It was quite...illuminating."

"Good." Grace quickly wrapped Janette in a farewell hug, causing Janette to
emit a slight squeak--from surprise or actually getting the air
pressed out of her lungs, Natalie could not tell. "It was nice
to meet you," Grace continued, appearing completely oblivious to
Janette's shock. "And remember," she added, raising a
finger, "when that man is being stupid, cutting him slack just
makes it worse."

"You
are right about that," Janette concurred. "Good night,
Grace. Good night, Natalie."

Natalie
waved and smiled around the large bite of brownie she had just taken.

"Bed,
I think. I'm exhausted and we both have to be at work..." Nat
stood slowly as she checked the clock, "later this morning."

"You're
right," Grace said warmly. "But do you feel better."

"Yes. Thank you so much." Nat hugged Grace, who was always there,
always had a ready smile, was always mothering her, bringing in food,
doing sweet little things like birthday parties and tonight's
impromptu party. "You do so much for me."

Grace
tsked and waved a hand dismissively then pointed at the coffee table. "Do you need help with this?"

Natalie
looked at the remains of various snacks laying in half conquered
piles. "What am I going to do with all this?" she moaned,
too tired to contemplate the work it would take to even get it out of
Sydney's reach for the night. "And the cheesecake...we didn't
eat a bit of it."

"Don't
worry about it," Grace said reassuringly. "We'll put it
all in little zip-lock baggies and take it into work. It'll be gone
long before lunchtime, I guarantee. The cheesecake maybe even
earlier."

Nat
nodded, beginning to stack as much of the food as she could carry in
one trip on top of itself. She froze for a moment as an idea struck
her and a smile spread slowly across her face. "Perfect. And I
can save a couple of pieces for snacks for later."

"Good
idea. You never do get enough to eat."

ooo

"Is
it safe to come in?"

Nat
looked up from her paperwork to see Nick peering cautiously around
the doorframe. Her face hardened at the sight of him. "If
you're here to check up on me..." she threatened, watching with
satisfaction as his expression grew even more concerned.

"No. Oh, no. I don't want another tongue lashing like the one you gave
me at the loft," Nick said quickly.

Natalie
maintained the glare for a moment then said grudgingly, "Well,
come in then," as she lost the battle against the grin that had
been threatening.

Nick
whistled softly in relief, then entered the lab. He perched on the
corner of her desk and looked at her for a long moment. "I'm
really sorry, Nat. I know you can take care of yourself. It's just
that if anyone still had ideas...and with my kind..." He shook
his head, "I don't know what I thought I was doing."

"I
do. I know you only worry because you care," Natalie replied. "So I suppose you're forgiven." Nick smiled broadly at
this and Nat smiled back a bit devilishly and added, "Under one
condition."

Nick
looked a bit worried. "What is that?"

Nat
stood up and walked to the evidence fridge, where she produced two
plates with healthy pieces of the leftover bakery cheesecake from the
previous night's affair. She removed the plastic wrap that Grace had
brought and held up a piece near his face.

"One
bite."

"Nat,
you're not serious--"

"One
condition: one bite. Come on. It's just cheesecake!"

"But,
Nat! It's...it's..." His voice trailed off.

Nat
scooped a bit onto a fork and held it up. "One bite. I'm even
being nice and making it a relatively small bite. Now eat."

Nick
grimaced expressively at the cheesecake inches from his face. Nat
wiggled the fork up and down then lowered it. Nick breathed a sigh
of relief until she shoved the fork handle first at him. "Here. Take this and feed yourself. That way I can join you."

"But,
Nat!" Nick's tones were fast approaching what could only be
defined as a whine.

"No
buts. One bite." She took one herself and gave the cheesecake
an approving nod. "Mmm. See how easy that is?"

He
raised the fork and looked suspiciously at its contents, then turned
a mournful expression on her.

"Yes,
just like that. And, no, the puppy dog look is not
going to get you out of this."

Nick shuddered as he closed his lips around the
cheesecake and Natalie laughed and took another bite herself.

ooo

ooo

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